Smoked Gouda Veggie Melt

October leaves. The hollow on fire with color. Worked at the construction company in Lexington this week. The body holds. Most days.

Connie at the vet clinic, four shifts this week. Her back is tired. She does not say so. I see it. Mama is 86. She is the toughest person I have ever known. She still cooks every day in the company house in Evarts.

Pot of soup beans on the stove. Pintos, hambone, slow simmer. Mama's recipe. Cornbread on the side. The Appalachian default for centuries and for good reason.

Travis called Tuesday. The landscaping company is busy. He sounds tired in a good way. Amber called Sunday. Things are good. James sends his regards.

The creek was running clear. The turkeys were back. The week was the week.

I sat on the porch with bourbon at sundown Friday. The fog rolled into the hollow the way it has every fog of every year. The porch was the porch. The bourbon was the bourbon.

The neighbor up the road — Old Roy, eighty-seven, lives alone — had a small heart scare. We took him soup beans Tuesday. Cornbread too. He cried a little when he ate. We all cry over soup beans eventually.

I sat at the kitchen table Tuesday night working on the recipe project. Mama's soup beans. I cannot get the words right yet.

The creek was running clear Sunday afternoon. I watched a kingfisher work the riffle. Did not move for an hour. Some Sundays the watching is the worship.

I went up to Earl's grave at the Evarts cemetery Saturday. Brought a beer. Drank half. Poured the rest on the dirt. Some traditions are mine alone.

I checked the truck oil Saturday. The mileage on this truck is criminal.

My back was tight after the wood-splitting Saturday. Took an Aleve. Slept eight hours. Got up.

Amber sent the kids' school photos this week. Nadia is taller every year. Marcus has Amber's serious face. Little Betty has Mama's eyes.

Travis sent a photo of Earl Thomas riding on the mower with him at a job site. The boy is wearing a Hensley Landscaping T-shirt that's too big. Three generations on a mower. I saved the photo.

Connie cut my hair on the porch Tuesday afternoon. She has been cutting my hair for forty years. The barber in Pineville cannot do what Connie does, which is also love.

I split a half-cord of wood Saturday. Slowly. The back does not let me work fast anymore. It got done. The wood was for the smokehouse.

Drove the truck to the dump Saturday afternoon. Saw three deer crossing the road on the way back. The mountains have been giving back this year.

The dog — old Beau, fifteen years old — slept by the wood stove all afternoon Tuesday. He used to be a hunting dog. Now he is a heating pad with opinions.

Sunday service at Harlan First Baptist when we go. Pastor preached about Ruth and Boaz. The choir sang. Connie wore her gray dress.

Connie made jam Saturday afternoon. Wild blackberries from the patch up the hollow. Twelve jars. The pantry is filling for winter.

Connie read aloud from a novel Tuesday evening while I worked on the bench. Some Appalachian writer she had picked up at the library in Whitesburg. The voice was the voice of where we live. We listened together.

Drove to Pineville for parts Wednesday. The hardware store man knew me. We talked about the weather and the price of feed. Forty minutes for a five-minute errand. That is rural Kentucky.

Mama’s soup beans are still the recipe I’m trying to get right in words — some things resist being written down because they were never meant to be, just cooked and passed along by hand. But sitting at that kitchen table Tuesday night, after we’d taken the beans to Old Roy and watched him cry a little, I remembered that feeding people doesn’t have to be complicated to matter. This smoked Gouda veggie melt is nothing like soup beans, but it carries the same spirit — something warm, something real, something you can put together at the end of a week that has cost you — and it has been on our table more than once when Connie’s back was tired and we both needed something good without a lot of asking from either of us.

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 12 minutes | Total Time: 22 minutes | Servings: 2

Ingredients

4 slices sturdy sourdough or thick sandwich bread
4 oz smoked Gouda, sliced or coarsely grated
1 small zucchini, sliced thin on the diagonal
1/2 red bell pepper, cut into strips
1/2 small red onion, sliced thin
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 tablespoon unsalted butter, softened
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
Handful of fresh spinach or arugula (optional)

Instructions

Sauté the vegetables. Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the zucchini, red bell pepper, and onion. Season with garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and just beginning to caramelize at the edges, about 6—8 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside.
Butter the bread. Spread softened butter evenly across one side of each bread slice. This is the side that will hit the pan.
Build the melts. Lay two slices butter-side down in the skillet over medium-low heat. Layer smoked Gouda on each, followed by the sautéed vegetables. Add a handful of spinach or arugula if using. Top with a second layer of smoked Gouda, then place the remaining bread slices on top, butter-side up.
Cook until golden. Press gently with a spatula. Cook 3—4 minutes until the bottom is deep golden brown. Carefully flip and cook another 2—3 minutes until the second side is golden and the cheese is fully melted through.
Rest and slice. Transfer to a cutting board and let rest one minute before slicing on the diagonal. Serve immediately while the cheese is still pulling.

Nutrition (per serving)

Smoked Gouda Veggie Melt — Something Warm When the Week Has Wrung You Out